Wildfire
by Halfshot
Summary: "Korra. You don't have to lie to me," she whispers quietly, stepping forward and putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. Sparks. It burns. I rip it away.


I hate doing the dishes. Messy, monotonous work. But I'm desperate and being desperate means I'm willing to try anything. Besides, maybe Tenzin is right; I need to do something other than stay cooped up in my room going over that fight again and again. The mantra isn't helping. It hasn't helped for weeks. There was nothing I could do...there was no way I could have changed the outcome...let it play out Korra…

The plate clanking in the sink snaps me back to attention. Focus. Control. At least I'm doing better here than I was on my forms. Sure, I had memorized them, drilled them in my head until they became muscle memory but something just seems...off. My body doesn't move like it used to. The steps are right, the strikes are powerful but as soon as I get in the temple, I feel like a puppet. My legs feel jerky and my arms either too loose or too tight as I transition from stance to stance. I feel like I'm not moving my own body. I may fight like Korra, laugh like Korra, talk like Korra, but the numbness never goes away. The emptiness never goes away. I had fooled everyone else but I am very much out of control of everything in my head.

So I do the dishes. Manually. Forsaking my waterbending and running the sponge over the dozens of plates that litter the sink. The longer I do it, the more my pride rattles in protest; Tenzin may have actually been right. It is helping. My mind just lazily drifts from one plate to another. Scrub, rinse, repeat. Scrub, rinse, repeat. Scrub…

"Korra?"

A spark. My shoulders tense so quickly as the smolders spread through my veins that I drop the plate in the sink where it clatters noisily against the other dishes. I know this voice, my mind fires quickly, trying to settle down the instinct to run or fight. But it's a spark. And my cold, hollow shell tries to hold onto it as long as it can.

My grin is already put in place by the time I turn to her. "Hey Asami, what's going on?"

"I just...wanted to make sure you were okay. Something seems off." Her eyes are staring straight into mine, searching for something. They won't find it. Whatever she is searching for, she won't find it.

Even then, sirens blare in my head. She's trying to climb the wall I had put up to defend myself. And what's worse, I know she knows the right steps to get over it. Fear pools in my chest, only adding to the cold, sinking feeling that was already present. "What do you mean?" My voice is too high. I was always horrible at lying. "I'm perfectly fine. Well, not completely. I have to do the dishes. But other than that…"

Fuck. Speak like a normal human being, Korra. Asami is still studying me, eyes drifting to different points on my face that I know are where my tells are. I wonder what she sees when she locks her eyes with mine again. There's nothing there _to_ see. Nothing left.

"Korra. You don't have to lie to me." she whispers quietly, stepping forward and putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. Sparks. It burns. I rip it away.

"Don't," I warn, trying to swallow the lump catching in my throat. The facade I had practiced and presented for so long slips, revealing the empty numbness I was trying to hide. Even I can tell that my voice sounds hollow. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." I try to turn back to the dishes, ignoring the heat from my shoulder where her fingers were. But my mind is screaming for the touch again. For the pain of it. Just to feel something again.

"Korra," she says my name again and by how close it is, I'm guessing she's taken a step towards me. She's brave. And she knows me. She knows saying my name like that is like striking flint against metal. "You need to talk about this." Her hand is already on my shoulder again, sending heat straight down to my hand.

"Asami," the warning is much more forceful this time, hollow and echoing. I spin around and grab her wrist, keeping her fingers from touching the bare skin on my shoulders. Her jacket helps to lessen the burning sensation on my hand where I'm grabbing her forearm. But the sparks are still there. They're already smoldering into a flame I can't smother. "I said, I'm fine."

She doesn't look discouraged. In fact, she didn't even flinch when I spun around to grab her. The only thing that shows some form of emotion is the way she gives a small yank of her arm to pull herself away from me. I refuse to let go, already feeling the heat pool in my fingers. "Korra, you can talk to me." She gently pulls on her arm again.

Seeing a hint of a struggle only fuels the fire she's caused and my body thrives off it. I'm no longer numb and empty but a wildfire tearing through a dry forest. It's...exhilarating. This destruction. It's almost painful, the way the heat rushes up my arm and to my chest, causing my heart to beat in my ears. But now I have control. She's mine to control.

My arm shoots out, grabbing the collar of her jacket to keep her a respectable distance. I no longer feel like a puppet, my movements are no longer jerky or off. I can tell she sees the switch by the way I see the small upturn of her lips in something I could almost mistake for a smile. A _smile_. My fist clenches in her jacket.

"I don't want to talk," I growl, giving her a final chance to escape. To leave and find shelter from the fire that's boiling my blood and splintering my bones. A part of me wants her safe. A part of me wants to keep her from getting burned. But that part is quickly dwindling the longer I watch her standing there unmoving, her tongue flicking slowly over her lips.

My mind takes that as a challenge and I've stepped forward, all but carrying her with me, until her back slams against the wall behind us. When she says my name, it's not fear in her voice, it's her own warning, forceful and commanding and far too late.

"Korra!"

My lips crash into hers in a bruising kiss and my name is suddenly lost in a muffled noise of surprise. If she's trying to push me away, I sure can't tell, because her hands slam into the wall a second later, pinned at the wrists under my grip.

Everything burns. My hips pressing against hers, my hands that slide up her wrists to intertwine with her fingers, my lips on hers that make me feel rather than hear my name again, this time as a moan.

"Korra…"

She's not resisting, she's kissing me just as hard as I'm kissing her and I realize my body wants more contact. _Needs_ more contact. Feeling like my very skin is on fire isn't enough to stave off the emptiness. I need to be burned to ash. Until there's nothing else left.

My knee finds it's way between her legs and the small gasp at the pressure sends lightning down my spine. I don't have any control over the growl of approval that comes from my throat or the way I find myself pushing more into her, moving my hands to her hips to hold her steady as her knees buckle. She's breathless now, curling her fingers into my back until I swear her nails are going to rip my shirt. The pain is dizzying. Her fingers burn on my back. I want more.

She does too.

She moans again, and this time, the noise holds no resemblance to my name. It's a desperate plea for me to continue to the small bouts of pressure I push in between her legs, to press more of my body against her, to continue to leave a trail of white-hot kisses up her neck as she tangles her hands in my hair.

It's the control I've been craving, manifested in Asami's complete surrender to the touch that wanders up her hips and across her breasts, eliciting a small whimper of approval as I tease the outside of her shirt. It's the way she doesn't resist when I pull her hands over her head, leaving her completely defenseless as I move my hands down to her belt. She doesn't even need to be commanded to keep them there; she's already grabbing the shelf above her for support as I unbuckle her pants and slide my hand between her legs.

My other hand is already over her mouth, knowing that the next noise she makes won't be as quiet as I want it to be. But I won't punish her for it. Not today, at least. Not when she's this wet for me.

Her eyes roll back and a muffled moan presses against my palm as my fingers slide across her clit, her hips arching up to meet my hand when I continue the stroke. It's enough to make me feel my own coil of pressure build up between my legs. The aching need to be touched by someone else…

"Fuck, Asami."

The control is slipping, replaced by a sudden longing to be soft. To be gentle. To be vulnerable. To be like...water. It quickly extinguishes the flame burning in my chest and leaves a charred, empty space in its wake.

I press against her one more time, feeling her tense underneath me before I pull away. I don't trust myself when I see the pleading in her eyes as I step back. It already takes everything I have not to help her stand as she tries to find her bearings once her support is suddenly gone.

"…Korra," she exhales, and my name on her lips still lights a spark in my ribcage.

My shoulders are tense and ready, almost as if I've just gotten out of a fight instead of pleasuring my one of the people that was only _supposed_ to be my friend. The stance makes sure I keep what's left of the little control I have. I chose to instigate this. I chose to make her tremble at my hands. I choose when to walk away.

I almost get out of the door. I almost get to freedom from her before she catches me. I wasn't expecting her to recover so quickly. And if she did, I was ready for her to yell at me, shove me, punch me. I was ready to defend myself.

Instead, she grabs my hand and gently intertwines her fingers with mine, effectively freezing me in place. Whatever sparks are still burning are immediately calmed. She doesn't need to tug that hard for me to stumble towards her.

When she kisses me, it's not rough or harsh. It's...soft. Teasing. Safe. Smiling against my lips as my own whimper escapes from my throat. This wasn't just a fuck to her, she's telling me. And by the way I respond, it's not just one to me either.

The noise, however, is offensive to my ears, a sign that the facade I've created has crumbled at her feet. It snaps me back to attention and I yank away from her, terrified. I've lost. I've been defeated. There's nothing left for her to find. Nothing left for her to break. Nothing left to burn.

It doesn't change that I want her to kiss me like that again.

"Korra, wait." Despite her pleas, she lets me go when I turn to run away this time and the house shudders when I slam the door behind me. The air that seemed non-existent in the space between us suddenly fills my lungs, clearing my head of the ash and chaos that was filling it just moments before.

I get to the temple in record time, going back to my tried and true ways of emptying my mind. Before Tenzin put all these silly ideas of washing dishes in my head. Forms. Bending. Manipulating the elements. Especially since it seems that I can't seem to control anything else on this island. Including Asami.

My stomach drops at the memory of her moaning my name. A reminder of just another thing I can't control.


End file.
